On arriving near the Dower House, she met several acquaintances among the crowd, and walked with them round to the north side of the blaze, to avoid the smoke and sparks blown by the north-east wind. The wind had been increasing in force since the early morning, and blew the women’s skirts about as they stood with their backs to it. "Mind yer bonnet, my dear," said one of them to the housekeeper. "Ye wouldn’t like to see it blowed into the bonfire, that I’m sure of." "Bonnet-strings be poor useless things in a wind like this," said another. "I’ll tie my handkercher over my head, and I reckon ye’d better do the same, my dear." "Iss, I think," said the housekeeper, drawing her handkerchief from her pocket. With it came a fluttering scrap of paper. She clutched at it, but a gust of wind caught it, and swept it along into the midst of the glowing building. "Drat it all!" she cried with vexation. "’Tis to be hoped ’twas not vallyble, my dear," said one of her friends. "If ’tis a love-letter," said another, "and ye can’t hold the man to his promise, ’twill be a gashly misfortune, to be sure, though maybe he’s a poor slack-twisted feller as ye’ll be glad to be rid of." "No, ’tis not that," said the housekeeper. "Well, ye needn’t werrit, if ’tis a bill for yer maister’s goods. Bills come over again, ’nation take ’em." But the housekeeper gave nothing to the probings of neighbourly curiosity. Afraid to meet her master lest he should question her, she remained for several hours in the village, taking care not to return home until she learnt from a small boy that Mr. Polwhele had been seen riding inland towards Redruth among the dragoons. Doubledick was on tenter-hooks all that day. His customers noticed how pale he was, and commiserated him on being "took bad" the day before Christmas. He jumped at the entrance of every new-comer. A great part of the day he spent in the seclusion of his cellar, gathering together a few valuables, which he placed along with his hoarded money in two stout bags. As evening drew on he became more and more restless and irritable, and gave short answers to his customers, wishing with all his heart that he could close his door. He dared not leave the village in daylight, for so many people were about, discussing the incidents of the morning, that he could hardly have escaped without being seen by some one. Never in all his smuggling ventures did he long for darkness as he longed for it to-day. About six o’clock a lad ran into the inn with the news that a flare had been seen towards Lunnan Cove. It was the time when Tonkin had arranged to make the run, and Doubledick took the flare as a signal from the riding-officer to Mr. Mildmay on the cutter. The customers poured out of the inn, in anticipation of more excitement before they retired to rest.